


What Dreams May Come

by 13starbuck42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, No Plot/Plotless, Smut, Smutlet, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 09:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13587630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13starbuck42/pseuds/13starbuck42
Summary: She shouldn't be having a dream like this...





	What Dreams May Come

She shouldn’t be having a dream like this.  Not now, not with him pressed against her the way he is.  These dreams are meant for late nights pouring over case files, lonely hotel rooms, lazy Saturday mornings.  But she supposes you can’t control your dreams, not really.

In this dream, she is wearing his t-shirt.  She is not wearing anything else.  The sheets have been thrown from the bed and a single pillow lies next to her head, corner clutched in her fist like the jaws of life.  Her other fist is balled up in his hair, and her teeth are embedded in her bottom lip.  Her knees are bent, heels digging into the mattress, and her back is arched.  She lifts her hips to meet the stroke of his tongue, and he pulls her back with both hands.  “You have to hold still,” he says against her, but she doesn’t listen.  

Mulder trails one hand down her thigh to circle her knee, the draws it back; slowly continuing the journey up under her t-shirt to roll one nipple, and then the other, between his fingers and thumb.  Her sigh is breathy, and she opens her mouth to gasp for air when his other hand moves from her hip and suddenly he has a finger inside her, curved up as if to say “come here” and she knows it won’t be long.  “Mulderrr,” she moans, and his tongue goes back to work on her clit.  “Oh God...Mulder, I’m coming,” and he smiles.  Two fingers now, and then she’s gripping him hard, wet and beautiful, making a noise that’s not quite his name but still a tribute to his work.  Her breathing comes ragged, and she loosens around his fingers.  He crawls up beside her as she comes down off the high.  His hand lazily follows, stopping to smooth her wiry curls, trace circles over her hips, dance across the soft skin of her belly, cup a breast, graze a nipple.  

Mulder moves the hair from her face, kisses her eyes and her cheeks and the tip of her nose.  “You taste so good, Scully,” he whispers, then kisses her mouth.  “Like berries and pine trees and red wine,” as she tastes herself on his lips.  She reaches for him,  feels him hard beneath her hand.  He pushes against her touch, groans at the contact.  “Jesus, Scully…”  She rolls into him, pressing herself against the length of his body, and is surprised to find him still fully clothed.

“Scully?  Scully… Jesus Scully, stop,”  Mulder hisses, seizing her wrist before her hand can move against him again.  She opens her eyes, adjusting to the dark, realizing she has somehow turned to face him.

“Wha…?  What? ...Oh.  Oh God.  Oh God, Mulder.”  

“Sounded like a good dream, Scully…” he says, testing the waters with humor. He doesn’t want to embarrass her; his erection pressing into her is embarrassment enough for both of them.  She can hear the smile in his voice.    

“Oh God, Mulder.  Why didn’t you wake me?!”  She lifts her hands to cover her face and shakes her head.  “Mulder…”

“I, uh… I woke up to you calling my name and… I thought something was wrong so I started to get up but you made this _noise_ , Scully, and… well, then I figured out what was happening but…” he cleared his throat, buying time.  “But you were almost, um… there, I guess, so… I just let you finish and, aah… well…  goddamnit, Scully...” he trails off, not knowing what to say to make this less embarrassing for both of them.

Feeling bold in the dark, Scully takes a deep breath.  “I dreamt you were going down on me, Mulder.”  Her legs are mingled with his in the sheets, pajamas damp between her thighs.  She rubs his calf with her foot, and he feels himself twitch against her.  “Mulder…” Scully draws closer, nestling her head in his shoulder, her breathing warm against his neck.  She rests a hand on his chest, and he covers it with his.  She’s kissing his neck now, and then his jawline, not daring to kiss his mouth yet, but working up the courage.  She presses against him, moves her hips, and he inhales sharply, hard under the sheets.

Mulder pushes up on an elbow and steadies himself above her before smothering her mouth with his.  His kiss is greedy, more take than give, but she gives willingly.  He pulls back quickly, taking the blankets with him, and throws them off to the side.  Moving to fit himself between her thighs, his fingers find their way beneath the elastic of her pajamas and he leaves a trail of kisses as he pulls the silk bottoms away.  He looks up at her then, when he hears the hum low in her throat, and his eyes shine with the light of a thousand stars.    

“Tell me _exactly_ what happened in that dream, Scully.”  


End file.
